His name Is David, And He Is A Vampire
by The Darkest Sunshines
Summary: Not exactly Twilight. same basis of werewolves and vampires, slight changes, copyrighted characters so your out of luck R&R no flames, sry its a bit slow, but in the next 2 chapters, itll all be worth it, lets just say that david isnt as smart as he looks
1. Chapter 1

When someone is born, you gather a great sense of what they are. They will grow and be funny, athletic, intelligent, beautiful, but you never know how they are going to act. Nobody could have guessed that Alexandra was going to be a werewolf. Or a vampire.

I guess you could say that I am unique in a few ways at the least. I adore school, I love to learn things and put my knowledge to the test, as well as show my creativity in different forms. My mom says that I have this 'creative energy', and that she can see it in my 'aura'. But, after all, she is a hippy. What can you expect? Class A nutcase she is.

My father abandoned us when I was six, apparently he had 'important business' to attend to. He never came back. The night he left, he told me he loved me, twice. He read my favorite books to me, all three of them. I thought it had been wonderful! To me, it was extra story time, he must not have known that I had eaten his strawberry cupcake earlier that day. But as the days went by, my mother got sadder and sadder, until she started getting these strange, dare I say it insane thoughts.

My father leaving pushed my mother to the brink of insanity and back. She started to believe in mythical creatures; vampires, werewolves, and so on. She started to search the histories of vampires specifically, and the spiritual relics that came with them. She joined a group of vampire hunters. Yes, that is what I said, vampire hunters. I know that this is just her way of being the over- protective mom, and I like that. Not many people can say, "my mom is trying to kill vampires for me", with a straight face.

The strangest part is that sometimes she will send me these sideways glances, and shake her head with tears in her eyes. Like I am terminally ill. You know, those looks that express, "I can't help you. I love you, but I can't help you. no one can help you now."

When she sends me these looks, I can not help but feel angry. It makes me feel odd, strange, like my mother thinks I don't belong with her, but instead in some hospital, with a warden watching me, day in and day out. A few weeks ago she bought a pistol. She is a very gentle, kind, and peaceful woman, but she would protect her daughter above all and everything else, which frightens me more then it is comforting me.

But anyways, the bell just rang to signal the end of the school day. Today also just happens to be Friday, which is great. The first place I go on Fridays is Cole's. that's right, I am fifteen years old and spend my Friday nights at the bookstore, and loving it.

I usually go with my friend Valentine. Now, when I say best friend, I don't mean best friend in acronyms like BFF or anything ridiculous like that. I'm talking about hardcore like, played in diapers, dieted together when we were twelve, and I was with her when she used to cut herself.

She started cutting when her father called her a freak. I remember the day fully. "You're a freak," he had shouted accusingly, ignoring the frightened looking, thirteen year old companion. "You shouldn't even be alive. You were a mistake, that's why your mother left. She fled from you hideous face. You supernatural freak of nature. You shouldn't even be alive!" and the hatred in his voice had brought her to tears. She wept and wept and wept for days. There was no stopping her. She didn't actually start cutting until the day after I left her house. She is my next door number, when we were younger, she lived to the left of me, but now she lives on the right side.

Her father's sister had lived on the right said of us, and when she heard the news she took Valentine in immediately. I had left her house late Saturday night, and heard her screaming on Sunday morning. This was around the time that my mother started behaving strangely. Valentine had found her father, cold and un-breathing on the kitchen table. His throat was slit deliberately and jaggedly, by someone strong and forceful is what the police were saying. He was found on the table with a note nailed to his forehead, it read, "what's for breakfast?" Yes, who ever did it was masochistic indeed. Valentine took it before the police were called. She still has that note in her dresses drawer, underneath all of the socks and what not.

She believed that her dad didn't mean what he said, and I believed that too. He was just stressed, tired, and angry, not at Valentine though. I don't think that he meant to take it out on her. She has the picture of him, her beautiful mother and her sitting in her dresser, on top of the bloody note.

She has been very sick lately though, and I worry about her. She stopped cutting, she realized that it was not her salvation. We have shared our good and not so good times, including when we accidentally ripped a book in Cole's and had to sneak it into the bathroom and use soap and toilet paper to glue it back together. We sat there for an hour trying to repair the torn book. We had been play fighting, her holding one end of the cover, and I the other. When we heard the rip, our eyes widened and she pulled the book from my hands and hid it behind her back.

One of the teenage employers were looking at us calculatingly, almost accusingly. I probably looked like a deer in the headlights, so I said the only thing that made sense. "Hey, Val, why don't we go to the rest room and try to fix your pants. She blushed like mad, and her hands being behind her back already made it look very believable. After we finished with the book, it looked like it had been massacred. So we left it sitting on the toilet cover and quietly snuck out.

She is my best friend, and I am so worried about her. Right now she is at my house with her aunt and my mom. Her aunt smokes so it is better for her at my house. She's been having raging fits, where she will shake and scream and throw things. She will collapse and scream in agony, then calm again. My mother refuses to call a hospital, she says that it will make things harder on all of us. A lot harder. So we haven't tried. Maybe she will get better, I mean, hopefully she will get better.

I hope that my mother is right.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm at Cole's right now, finding a good book for Valentine. let's see… I could give her a Manga… or maybe a biography… or… I'm going to get her a fantasy.

I slowly and deliberately made my way towards the fantasy section, and looked under the heading _Teen Romance_. I sifted through books wearily… none of these seemed to be of her liking, but then again, her tastes jumped insanely from Ouran High School Host Club to Harry Potter.

My eyes landed upon the fairly decently sized book with the beautiful girl on the cover. _ Night World. _This was the perfect book for Valentine, but where was the first one? I felt my phone vibrate, but ignored it, passing it off as another boy at school, or a less important friend of mine who may have gotten my cell phone number.

There it is! I found the copy of Night World, the first three stories. Great. I should also get her a copy of the second book, I am completely sure that she will find this series exhilarating. I sit down on one of the soft, plush chairs that were filled with little beads and cushions.

I flipped to the first page. By the way, for anyone who wants to read Night World, or is currently reading it, there might be a slight spoiler included, just so that the people in my head that I'm narrating for are aware. I read about the tragic story of Poppy, how she fell in love with James, knew he was different, and stuck with him.

They were not allowed to love each other. It broke many rules, and could destroy either one of them. James' love for Poppy causes him to turn her into a vampire, which she does to stay with him. It is tragic. There is family betrayals, love, loyalty, adventure, and that luminosity of forbidden love that everyone does or should ache to read.

Valentine will love it, because I know that I do. I quickly skimmed the next two stories of forbidden love. L.J. Smith is amazing. It's hard not to be completely captivated by his works. A see a pair of feet shuffling towards me, and then the lights go out.

"Excuse me Miss, Cole's is closing, could you please take your purchased items out of the store with you?" I nodded my head and put the paid for copies of Night World volume one and two into my plastic bag with my receipt.

The drive home was slightly eerie. I had never stayed at the book store right up until closing time, that was odd. My phone was still vibrating half way through the story, so I silenced it. I turned the radio on quietly, as my hearing is far above average, it was easy to listen to. Apparently there was some sort of beast on the loose. It was called in by a Caucasian female when her friend and neighbor was attacked by it. The woman was announced dead on the scene, as her face was ripped almost right off of her skull.

I drove home and started to hear a siren. I turned the radio off sharply and listened. It sounded as if the ambulances and what- not must be close to my house, in fact, upon further inspection, I realized that there were people rushing in and out of the house.

They are never going to let me in. I'm not going to know what's going on until tomorrow at the rate that they are bustling about. I hope Val isn't hurt. Maybe mother finally decided to call the hospital once and for all. I took the spare key to Val's house out of my pocket.

As I crept around to the back of my neighbor's house, I heard a man whispering from across the yard, "I wonder where the other girl is. You'd think that she would pick up her cell phone when the police called, or even her house."

So that's who was calling my phone. Over and over and over again. This must be bad. I slipped the back door open and slunk through the house. Something smelled like rusted iron, or like old pennies. I snuck up the stairs quietly and reached Val's bedroom, which was right across from where mine was. My window was open, and so was Val's, which was good, because hers screeched like a banshee when you tried to open it. I stood in the window sill and took a deep breath.

The wind was cold against my soft face, and I knew that my cheeks and my small nose were turning pink. My eyes watered as the wind whipped it dry and induced tears. I crouched, my fingers clawing into the white trim of the window. My legs were long, but not enough to get all the way across the houses. I lowered my body to a position like a tiger getting ready to spring into action.

Suddenly an instinct took over. Any doubts that I had about jumping through a window were gone. The muscles in my legs were twitching and spazzing, expecting the jump, anticipating it. My legs extended and pushed me outward, to the other window. My head pushed through the drawn curtains and I rolled as I landed on the floor. I was silent, and I knew that all of the action went on downstairs. Nobody was going to come up here.

My bed was still tossed and disheveled from my morning routine of getting up, whipping my blanket aside and knocking over my pillow. My lave lamp was still turned on, and one of my books was still half open, a page flipping back and forth as the wind turned it from side to side. A chair was sitting on the floor, on it's side by the desk. The room looked like someone was chasing another person, but really it was just me. Waking up, reading, and then being so late that I didn't care that y chair had fallen onto the floor.

I used one finger to tap the door open, and took long, graceful steps towards the stairwell. The smell of rusted pennies was now one that was quite strong. I didn't know what was happening to me, but I suddenly felt invincible, I guess it's an adrenaline rush, yes, I Googled it.

The police officers were speaking of the beast. The one that I had heard about on the radio. This couldn't be related, could it? I walked down the stairs quietly and hid behind the thick rails. Peeking between two, I suddenly didn't feel so invincible. I heard a crack. In between my fist, where the thick bar of the rail had been,. Were thin slivers of wood, practically wood chips. Wow, I wish I was filled with adrenaline more often.

Suddenly I saw the red. All of the red. Smeared on the walls, staining the couch, and on the wood I had just shattered, now on my hands. Somebody else noticed the crack. A pale man with a strange, orange colour eyes. He was beautiful. His hair was black, and stylishly disheveled. He wore a badge, showing he was involved with the police, but somehow I knew that he was not. He opened his mouth, and somehow, that action terrified me. Whatever he was about to say was blocked off by my scream of terror and ferocity.

I was trying to tell them to get it, but my scream over powered that, it just had the tone of, 'stay the hell away from me.' I tried to slink back up the stairs, but suddenly I was no longer invincible. I turned to run but fell, I thudded down the trimmed, wooden steps heavily. At the bottom of my descent, I landed in a warm puddle of something, what else would it be, but blood.


	3. Chapter 3

I lay still for a moment, as the smell of blood overwhelmed me. I slid my hands forward and tried to push myself up with my arms. My hands were slipping in the still fresh puddle of blood, and I knew that I was currently destroying this crime scene.

My white skinny jeans were probably destroyed, and my deep green tank top was obviously stained burgundy. I saw the pairs of feet slowly huddling around me. Leather shoes, sneakers, and very professional pairs of heels, but all present for the same reason, murder.

I felt salty tears stinging my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. Suddenly one brave set of sneakers (the only pair of sneakers, I might add) stood right in front of me. The man sat down, also in the puddle of thick, red liquid. It was the man with the orange, almost red colored eyes.

I saw a pair of heels stumble backwards in shock at the actions of this man. "What are you doing?" she asked, half shrieked. He ignored her. I watched this stranger analytically, as he did to me.

Suddenly, he reached for my hand. His was cold to the touch, and hard as marble. He turned my palm upward, and delicately slid the splinter of wood I had not known existed out of my hand.

As he stood, my hand still in his grasp, I followed. "I'm escorting this young lady from the crime scene," he whispered in the woman's ear. She nodded feverishly, I clearly was not supposed to hear that.

As I trailed behind him, I realized that his black suit was now ruined, and his K- Swiss red like cherries. He dropped my hand and led me out of the bloodied living room. I started to feel faint and dizzy, and my eyes were blurred, but I assumed it was just my tears that were clouding my vision.

We walked around the house, with my unsteady, heavy, and stumbling steps following his proud and even gait. We reached the back porch and he sat down on a chair swiftly. He made a gesture towards the middle steps, and I sat and obliged.

We sat for about ten minutes. He made no move to comfort me, and I was not about to start a full out sob fest. I listened to the officers talking from the front of the house, "the woman's name was Priscilla, neighbor reported."

Suddenly it clicked, and I said it aloud, "my mother is dead." I probably sounded insane after that, fore the sob fest had finally begun, and it struck with full force. I suddenly felt a hand pat my back, awkwardly yet soothingly, as I sobbed loudly.

"Now she won't… say how much… that she loves me… She won't be able to… do things with me… or tell me about… her crazy vampire hunts… and… I loved her!" at some point this stranger had stopped rubbing my back, and started looking at me like I knew too much. Like I was suddenly a person of his interest.

"You need to come with me. Right now," he stated firmly.

"Are you going to take me down to the station now or-" "just follow me to the cruiser."

He led me along the house again, but this time urging silence and nudging me forward. We reached a black Mercedes, and he told me to sit, so I lay down in the backseat, just below the height of the window, and huddled into the blanket, which was conveniently there, practically calling to me. It wasn't exactly a cruiser, but it would have to do.

About five minutes through the drive of silence, I started to sing myself songs, first in my head, then aloud. As I started singing You Find Me by The Fray for the fifth time aloud, I stopped.

"Umm… do you know where the station is? Because it only takes like, ten minutes to get there from my house."

I heard a screech and I jumped slightly at the sound. We were currently parked in the parking lot of a clearly abandoned motel. The passenger's side window was open, and I could distinctly smell the carcass of the shredded badger at the other end of the lot. The cold air from outside was making me shiver.

Suddenly the stranger turned to me and asked, "what do you know about vampires?"

This was definitely not the time to be asking such silly questions as those.

"Vampires… I know nothing of them but of their non-existence. Could you please take me to the station now so that I may finally find out what has happened to my mother. And my neighbor. And Val, and will you please roll up that God damned window!"

He looked at me strangely for a moment. By this point, I was in hysterics. The smell of carcass was making me crazed, it was cold, lonely, I was shivering like mad, and all I wanted to do was be engulfed in a hug by my mother.

"The window doesn't matter right now, but you have to talk to-" "if I have to smell that animal for another moment, I am throwing it in your face!"

I said that with as much venom as I could muster, and glared across at his hand, which was now reaching towards the automatic windows. He froze as his fingers grazed the small flip, "wait, you can smell that?"

He turned to me, his dark brown hair shagging over his eyes stylishly, and I laughed. I laughed like a lunatic, and howled loudly, and in between wheezing breaths managed to say "of course I can!"

And soon my wheezing turned into a dry heaving. "I'm going to be sick!" I murmured. I practically jumped out of the black car, the smell of rotten flesh now completely overpowering me. I knew I was going into shock, but I refused to ask for help. So much can happen in just a short amount of time.

I scrambled over to a patch of tall grass, as far from the carcass as I could get. I fell onto my hands and knees and heaved. I felt my hair being carefully scooped off of my shoulders. My hazel eyes were now dry, and it hurt to keep them open for long periods of time.

This stranger, who's name I really should have known by now, crouched beside me, my hair still in his hands. My small stomach contents were finally released, and I felt the cold get to me once again, as I pretended that that was why my cheeks were suddenly flushed to a delicate pink.

I started to shake, not from cold, but from something inside of my body, like an earthquake trigger. The man beside me dropped my straight dark hair and grasped my shoulders in an attempt to still my seizing. I couldn't breathe, and he still had my shoulders, causing me to feel slightly claustrophobic. I was laid down flat as I started to make choking noises, I was trying to keep the air in my lungs where they were. Trying to preserve what was left. He slid his left hand onto the base of my throat, still pinning me down successfully. My vision was clouding, but I saw the concentrated, almost calculating look on his face, as one of his hands were crawling across my ribs, one finger at a time, as if counting them. He seemed to find the right one, and applied a slight pressure first, but I had seen medical shows, this wasn't going to be very pleasant. I began to say with the last spout of air in my lungs, "no, please don't-" and then there was the crack, and the thunderous amount of pain accumulating around my ribcage.

I could breath again, but this man had just broken my rib, and I don't even know how he managed to do it so easily, and it hurt. He started to gently carry me back to the black Mercedes, my shaking halted. I felt good with him carrying me, and I grabbed and I grabbed onto his shirt with my left hand, as my right could not cross over my chest now.

"Don't worry, I'm going to help you and you're going to be just fine."

He spoke to me softly, and my dry eyes were suddenly moist again. I nodded my head against his chest as he started to slip me into the passenger's side of the car. He brushed my hair away from my face, and was suddenly in the driver's side. "By the way, Alexandra, my name is David. I'm going to take care of you. To help you."

I stared at him stupidly, realizing how beautiful he was right then. David, it fit him perfectly, I thought. I had yet to blink. I think that this is just some nightmarish dream. I need to memorize his features quickly, I thought to myself.

He turned to me when I took a sharp intake of breath due to the pain in my ribs. He smiled, and I had yet to look away from his face, or even attempt to blink. What strange colored eyes.

"I think that you should sleep now, believe me, I'm not going anywhere."

I turned towards the window, my left hand against it, putting a comfortable pressure on my broken rib. Before I rested my head on my hand, I looked over my shoulder for one more peek. David was still staring at me. And as I turned around to put my face against the cold window, I was really trying to hide my confusing smile.

I didn't even know that it was there.


	4. AN MUST READ OR WILL PAY!

AN IMPORTANT FOR ALL OF MY STORIES!!!

Okay, so, as you know I haven't been around lately, I am going to continue all of my storied starting within this week, I already have a new chapter for dirty little secret, but the catch is……………… dundundudndun, I made myself a new account! :D

Which I am very happy about, as I had too many favorites on this one :P I know, you can never have too many, but I was getting overwhelmed keeping up with all of them!

So, my new account is KaitlynIsabella, I know creative, its my first and middle name, also my account on youtube :D and on myspace :D but not facebook :P

so anywhoss, I don't really have an excuse for not updating except for the fact that ive been really bsuy, as I joined a rep volleyball team this past year, and it took up a lot of my time, so, as you must have figured, all of my stories are going to be transferred onto ym new account, but the reviews can not go with  so that is where you fans come in!

 you gusy can do me the biggest favour of life, and review my stories on my other account like you have for this one! Okay, longest authors not of life, but im done now, so bye! 3


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